


Secret Santa

by 50sNettle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Cute, Castiel and Dean Winchester are Teenagers, Christmas Fluff, Dean and Feelings, High School Castiel/Dean Winchester, M/M, Secret Santa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2015-12-26
Packaged: 2018-05-09 09:35:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5534951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/50sNettle/pseuds/50sNettle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gets coerced into Jo’s Secret Santa. Finding the right present is a lot harder than he first envisioned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Secret Santa

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas, my little sock puppets! (Again!) X
> 
> DISCLAIMER. I own nothing. Even after I begged Santa.

"This is so lame," Dean grumbles, as his younger brother plucks a folded piece of paper from the tupperware container in Jo's hands.  
"You're such a misery guts, Dean," Sam complains, looking at his assigned person before slipping the paper into his pocket, whilst Jo rolls her eyes as she holds the box out to his older brother.   
"C'mon, Winchester The First. Your turn to pick. It ain't that hard. Who knows, you might end up with someone good."  
"Yeah?" The senior gestures around their homeroom. "Like who?"  
"Oh, I don't know." Jo throws him a wink. "Lisa Braeden, for example." She nods over Dean's shoulder at the brunette in question.  
"Hm," Dean agrees reluctantly, following her gaze; Lisa Braeden sure is a pretty girl and having an excuse to impress a pretty girl is something that he's never shied away from, and so he reaches out and selects a name from the pile, making Jo grin triumphantly.  
"Knew I could convince ya. You're practically controlled by Little Dean."  
"Shut up." Dean pulls a face at her, and then at Sam for good measure, before unfolding the slip of paper in his hands, hoping to see Lisa's name printed in front of him.  
Except it isn't Lisa Braeden written there.  
It's Castiel Novak.  
Almost involuntarily, Dean glances across the room to where his Secret Santa sits, deep in conversation with a large group of students that surround his desk; Anna Milton says something that makes all seven of them chuckle, tossing her long red hair over her shoulder and nudging Hester with her elbow. Castiel watches them giggling, laughing along with his big blue eyes that match the tie he always wears rather than with the ghost of a smile that sits on his lips.  
Sam sees whom he's looking at and then claps him on the shoulder. "You got one of the Angels, huh? Man, I feel for ya. That lot don't even talk to anyone who isn't a part of their weird little clique. Good luck; I have a feeling you're gonna need it."  
Dean crumples the slip of paper in his fist.  
"Fan - freakin' - tastic," he mutters.  
  


***

Dean takes the informed decision to skip his afternoon classes that day and camps out in the Impala instead, surfing his way through pages and pages of Google results for possible gift ideas suitable for Castiel Novak. Which proves to be more difficult than he first anticipated, as no one really knows anything about Castiel, or any of the other Angels, in fact. They’re all as mysterious as each other.  
By the time the end of the school day has rolled around, Dean has considered a watch (because everybody needs a watch), a comb (because Castiel’s hair is always so messy that it looks like he rolled straight out of bed without giving two shits), and also a toothbrush (just because), none being ideas that have come to fruition. He slumps down in his seat, discarding his phone on the dashboard and cranking his music up, letting the thumping sound of AC/DC calm him down somewhat.  
Eventually, Sammy emerges from inside the school at the end of last period, dropping into the passenger seat and rescuing the phone.  
“Have you been here all afternoon?” He queries as Dean throws the Impala into reverse, sending swarms of students scattering in order to avoid getting hit.  
“So what if I have?”  
“Christmas shopping, huh?” Sam shakes his head. “Man, I’m glad I’m not in your place right now.”  
“Oh?” Dean inclines his head towards him with a raised eyebrow. “Who’d you get, then?”  
Sam looks awkward, all of a sudden finding the stretch of road ahead of them very fascinating indeed. “Wouldn’t be Secret Santa if I told you, would it?”  
“Bitch,” Dean replies, trying to hide his smirk.  
“Jerk,” Sam fires back.  
  


***

“This should not be this difficult. It’s a freakin’ Secret Santa, for God’s sake.”  
Charlie smirks. “And you thought that dragging me along on this shopping trip of yours was somehow gonna help matters?”  
Dean slides the box of aftershave back on the shelf with a sigh. Does Castiel like aftershave? Who the hell knows. He’s never spoken a word to him, or any of the other Angels, only watched from afar as Jo sauntered up to them and all but demanded that they participate in Secret Santa because she said so and that was final.  
Charlie pushes a strand of hair away from her face as they give up and leave the store. “Could have been much worse, you know.”  
“How?”  
“You could have gotten _Gabriel_ Novak. I guarantee that would have sucked.”  
“True.”  
“Besides, Castiel’s much more your type, I think.”  
Dean raises an eyebrow. “My type?”  
“C’mon, don’t pretend like you haven’t been checking him out ever since he arrived in Lawrence. I’m pretty sure I caught you drooling at one point.”  
“Oh, ha ha. You’re freakin’ funny, Bradbury.”  
“I’m serious! You, Mr Winchester, have a massive crush on Mr Novak. Oh, come on, don’t look at me like that! It’s not like the affections aren’t reciprocated.”  
“What do you mean?”  
“You mean you haven’t seen the way he looks at you when he thinks you aren’t paying attention? Tsk, Dean. Tut tut. You’re becoming too oblivious for your own good. Good thing I’m here to observe for you.”  
Dean gives her a playful nudge. “Oh, yeah? Because you oversee everythin’, don’t you?”  
“You’re goddamn right I do.” Charlie rolls her eyes as they step over the threshhold of the next store on their list - a clothing store, because, Dean reasons, you can’t go wrong with a place that sells plaid flannel shirts.   
Not that Charlie agrees, of course.  
“Dude, we’re shopping for Castiel, not for you.”  
Dean pulls a face as he holds up one of the many checkered items on offer. “It’ll look great!”  
“For once, Winchester, it would be nice if you thought with your upstairs brain, and not Little Dean. Put it back.” Dean sticks his tongue out at her as he reluctantly puts the shirt back on the rack. “C’mon, let’s do some brainstorming. What would look good on Castiel? Although, just saying, he could make a sack of potatoes look good.” Dean has to agree with her there. “Hey, what about this?” She holds up a suit jacket and Dean snorts.  
“He’s not a freakin’ tax accountant, Charlie.”  
“It’s not as bad as that flannel shirt.”  
“What’s wrong with flannel?”  
“What’s _right_ with flannel?” Charlie pauses. “Hey. What about that?” She nods to another display rack, across the other side of the store.  
Dean follows her gaze, raising an eyebrow. “That...That could work.”  
  


***

“Secret Santa time!” Jo bellows across the room, drawing the attention of the other students around her, motioning for them to gather round the pile of presents that she’s spent all morning arranging on Mr Crowley’s desk. “Kevin!” She plucks a parcel from the load. “Sam!...Jess!” Sam blushes at that, and Dean smirks. His baby brother is so obvious at times.   
“Dean!...Castiel!” Jo hands them both their gifts before turning back to the list of names, although Dean’s stopped listening by this point. He’s too busy watching as Castiel gently pulls at the wrapping paper, barely ripping it as he uncovers the gift and holds up the tan trenchcoat, a smile stretching across his face. His eyes flicker over to Dean, holding his gaze for a few seconds before Dean looks down, tearing into his own gift in order to distract himself from Castiel’s round blue eyes, pulling out a leather jacket, battered but still awesome. Dean looks up again; Castiel is still watching him as he tugs the trenchcoat on over his clothes. It’s only fair, Dean reasons, if he does the same thing.  
“Cool!” Sam notices the jacket when he finally looks up from his book on Law. “Wonder who got you that.”  
“Yeah.” Dean winks at Castiel, who gives a gummy smile in return. “Wonder who.”


End file.
